


Waiting to Happen

by Tabithian



Series: Light the Path [13]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4503264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's another one of these seemingly endless  fundraisers and galas Bruce is always dragging him to these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting to Happen

**Author's Note:**

> Anon wanted more civilian Tim and Jason adventures, so. Yes?
> 
> :D?

It's another one of these seemingly endless fundraisers and galas Bruce is always dragging him to these days. Alfred helping him with the suit or tuxedo, depending on how much the universe hates him at the moment. Dick mussing up his hair with an unrepentant little grin.

Bruce looks at him, Dick, this little quirk to his mouth before they get out of the car or go down the stairs and turns into that horrifying monstrosity the public sees.

Dick's gone off to be fussed over by a cluster of Gotham's old biddies, and Jason - 

There's a muffled giggle off to the side, and when he looks he sees a small hand reach up from under one of the refreshment tables and grab a handful of cookies before disappearing.

Jason.

Looks around to see if anyone else noticed, and accidentally catches Bruce's eye where he's schmoozing with potential business partners.

Bruce raises an eyebrow.

He knows how much Jason hates these things. 

Dressing up all shiny and pretty for a bunch of assholes who don't really give a damn about whatever charity they're here to support, so much as not looking bad to the public. (For the most part, there are a few decent people here, but. Yeah, no. Mostly assholes.)

Jason cocks his head.

Bruce.

Looks at the table, a different hand snagging another handful of cookies, and then gives Jason both eyebrows, and okay.

This is hardly going to be on par with what they deal with night after night, but it's a damn good excuse to get out of there.

Waits for a bit and _there_ , a third cookie thief, different little giggle and a little blur making its way across the room.

Easy to see why no one seems to notice when the perps barely reach their knees, too busy making themselves seem richer and more important than they are.

He brushes past Dick on his way out of the room, and gets an amused smile, and a whispered, _Go get 'em tiger!_

Jason accidentally catches Dick in the kidney with his elbow when he trips over something, how clumsy of him, he's so very sorry, Dick.

Dick's smile goes forced, little sound of pain escaping him and oh, yes, the bastard's not going to take it easy on Jason the next time they spar, but it was worth it.

So, so worth it.

********

Jason's starting to feel a little like a character in a fairy tail, following a trail of cookie crumbs down carpeted hallways and tiled entrance ways that give way to hardwood floors and - 

A hand grabs him when he passes an alcove, pulls him through a screen of potted plant and Jason forces himself to relax when he realize what little force behind it isn't aggressive in nature.

“Uh, sorry,” a weirdly familiar voice says. “I didn't mean to startle you, but.”

Jason turns and finds himself facing the _kid_.

The one with the camera and absolutely no self-preservation instincts to be wandering around Gotham on his own the way he had been. (Gotham's no more safer during the day than she is at night, it's just a pretty lie everyone tells themselves.)

“Hey,” Jason says, doesn't really know what to follow up with. “Tim right?”

Tim blinks, like he honestly didn't expect Jason to remember his name.

“Yeah,” Tim says, not quite to a smile. “And you're Jason.”

There's something in the way he says Jason's name that - 

There's another one of those tiny little giggles, patter of running feet and when he looks at Tim sees he's smiling now.

“Look,” Tim says, points to the hallway and the small figure drawing closer.

Jason give Tim a look, peers through fern fronds and other plants he doesn't know the names of to see a kid, no really, a kid, five, six at most. Running down the hallway, hands full of cookies.

“What the hell?”

Tim shushes him, shrugs when Jason glances at him again. “They don't know we're here,” he says.

Jason shakes his head and watches the kid – kidlet, really – run to the end of the hall where several other kidlets pop up out of nowhere, and they spread out what looks like a small blanket.

“What is going on right now?” Jason asks, voice dropped to a whisper to keep from being overheard by the kidlets.

“Cookie picnic,” Tim says, like it's obvious.

The brat grins when Jason shoots him a dark look.

And.

Well, he's not wrong, is the thing.

The kidlets are carefully laying out their stolen cookies, keeping them separate by type and looking very serious for a bunch of kidlets. There's a minor squabble or two over where the oatmeal raisin cookies belong before the little girl acting as ringleader moves them to the corner of the blanket.

“Cookie picnic.”

Tim _hmms_.

Jason watches the kidlets until they start in on the cookies, little giggles and a quiet little squeal of delight during what looks like a cookie trade.

Looks back at Tim, who's moved to the back of the alcove, sitting against the wall.

“Okay. I get what's going on there, you want to tell me how they got here?”

The kidlets are supposed to be two floors up, sacked out after a busy night of puppet shows and story time and whatever else it is kidlets go for at that age. Sort of a demonstration of the programs and service being offered by this particular charity for working parents. (Impressive, really.)

Tim.

Makes a face, looks down. 

“They, uh.”

Jason waits, remembers Tim's an odd one. Strange kind of shy.

“They escaped?” Tim says, shrugs the tiniest bit.

 _Looks_ at Jason, says, “I don't think the people watching them were very good at it.”

Not so much, no.

Jason sighs, runs a hand over his face and wonders if Bruce already knows, or if Jason gets to be the one to tell him. 

Eyes Tim when he fidgets, fingers worrying the cuff of his sleeve. “What are you doing here?”

Tim.

Coughs, rubs his nose. “My parents,” he says, tentative little smile. “The Drakes?”

Jason remembers them, or at least being introduced to them, Bruce's hand on his shoulder. 

Didn't see Tim with them, though. Definitely would have remembered that, oh, yes.

“So, what. You've been hiding out here the whole time?”

Tim. It's not quite a wince, but.

Close enough.

“Ah, no. I was.” 

Tim _blushes_. 

“Ted Kord's here,” he says, quiet. 

Little bit of awe in there. 

Jason hasn't formally met Ted, but he knows enough from Bruce and Dick to be grateful he came to this stupid thing alone. 

Jason.

“I,” Tim says, laughs, gaze flicking to the ongoing cookie picnic. “He was busy, and then I noticed them, so.”

So? So Tim took it upon himself to keep an eye on the cookie thieves instead of trying to meet what sounds like one of his heroes? Really?

Tim shrugs again, this little smile on his face that looks like it hurts. 

“I've been to enough of these things I know what it's like for kids their age, and I mean. They wouldn't really get into trouble here, but.”

Another shrug, Tim not meeting his eyes.

“Never hurts to be careful,” Tim says, and finally looks at Jason.

Jason feels his eyes narrow, because that.

(You never really know, in Gotham.)

“Really.”

Tim just looks at him.

And.

“You could have told someone, your parents,” Jason says, doesn't miss the way Tim's face goes so very still at that. “Or, I don't know, the idiots who lost the kidlets?”

Tim looks at the kidlets, laughing and giggling and stuffing themselves sick with cookies.

“They're having fun, and it's not like they're hurting anyone.”

There's a look on his face, that - 

Wait.

Jason squints at Tim, who fidgets and fidgets some more under it.

Tim, who said he's been to these stupid things before, said he knows what it's like for kidlets like the cookie thieves. Tim, who is hiding out in an alcove watching over said kidlets instead of meeting Ted, or helping his parents schmooze, or anything else he could be doing.

“So how did your class assignment turn out?” Jason decides to ask, because it's not like he doesn't understand at least a part of that.

Tim looks thrown.

“What?”

“The thing with the camera?” Jason asks, holds up his hands up to his face like he's holding one. 

And, oh, interesting, Tim's blushing again, eyes darting away.

“Oh. I. I did okay?”

“Yeah?”

Tim still won't look at him, _worriesworriesworries_ the cuff of his sleeve, and _ha_. 

Jason thought there was something fishy about that, but.

It hadn't exactly been a hardship for Jason, fresh off getting into a fight with some rich brat. Fucking bullying one of the kid who'd gotten in to Jason's school of super rich spoiled brats and supposedly superior education thanks to one of Bruce's programs.

Jason listening to the headmaster telling him that _violence isn't the answer, young man_ and _you should have come to one of us with this before resorting to such deplorable tactics_ and _we're going to have to contact your guardian_ and.

And Jason knows, knows, what Bruce is always telling him, what Dick tells him.

That it's important no one finds out who they are, and Jason knows, he does. He's not an idiot, just.

Sometimes he gets so damn tired of dealing with other idiots.

He'd snuck away, then, out a window and across school grounds and just wandered around Gotham until he'd seen this stupid kid with a camera. (Had made sure to call Alfred, once he got away from the school because Jason's not that much of a shit, hadn't wanted to worry anyone more than he already did.)

A really stupid kid, to be carrying a nice camera like that around in the neighborhood he was walking in. Older model, yeah, but Jason got a close enough look at it to see it was in good shape, probably some top of the line model when it first came out. Still worth a fair bit of money to the right people.

So, yeah.

He's Robin now, but that.

Not like he would have ignored a kid like Tim with the kind of creeps lurking around that area before he put the suit on.

And anyway, it had given Jason the time, space, for his anger to bleed off. 

Watching Tim staring up at Gotham's buildings and taking pictures. Piping up with obscure facts about Gotham that are actually interesting, losing some of that weird nervousness as the day went on.

Jason looks at his watch, over the kidlets. Tim.

“You think you can hold the fort down here for a bit?”

(Like he wasn't doing just fine on his own.)

Tim frowns. “What?”

Jason smiles, shrugs. “Well if we're going to be keeping an eye on the cookie thieves over there, might as well get something to eat.”

It's pretty late as it is, and the damn party isn't over for at least a couple of hours. (That, and strangely enough, Jason has a craving for cookies.)

Sees Tim mouth _cookie thieves_ to himself incredulously.

“You allergic to anything?”

Tim blinks, looks up at him. “What?”

Jason bites back a laugh because Tim's _face._

“Any allergies?”

Tim's face clears, faint dusting of pink along his cheeks, top of his ears. “Oh, uh. No, not that I know of.”

Great.

“Okay, so. Keep an eye on the kidlets and I'll be back with food.”

Tim's looking at him like maybe Jason's a bit of a nutcase (if only Tim knew), and nods.

“Okay?”

Jason doesn't need to pull out Robin levels of stealth when he ease out of the little alcove because the kidlets are starting to droop, sleepy little yawns , small fists rubbing at their eyes.

Glances back and can barely make Tim out through the greenery hiding him, and.

Not exactly the way he thought the night would go, half expected to be at his snapping point by now, actually, but this.

Not so bad, really. 

********

“Burglary ring,” Jason says, when he bumps into Bruce as he's trying to decide on chocolate chip or chocolate chocolate chip, and really, why not _both_. “More reconnaissance is necessary before we make our move.” 

There's a _Bruce_ smile on his face, which is important because Jason really fucking hates the Brucie smile.

“Oh?”

Also, he's going to have to tell Bruce about the way these people lost a whole lot of kids at some point, but Bruce didn't seem all that concerned earlier, and.

It's not like the kids are running wild, really. 

“Things are at a delicate stage right now.”

A snort of laughter from his left, Jason side-stepping just a bit too slow when Dick ruffles his hair.

“Think you can handle it until we can provide backup?”

Jason ducks out from under his hand, scowls at him. Almost, almost, tells them he already _has_ backup, but.

It's kind of nice to have a...a friend who doesn't run around in a weird costume at night punching people in the face. (Someone who doesn't look at Jason and sees Bruce's name, his influence instead.) 

Puffs out his chest a little, because Bruce gets this little eye twitch when one of them does that, gets cocky.

“Please,” Jason says, flicks cookie crumbs stuck to his fingers at Dick, who just grins at him. “I've got this.”

And if for some reason he doesn't, well. 

There's Tim, isn't there?


End file.
